


Road to Nowhere

by ehonauta (banzai)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Overemphasis on ipod playlists, Pre-Canon, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 05:06:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1675769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banzai/pseuds/ehonauta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Culver University, located in beautiful Willowsdale, Viginia is almost 2,000 miles from Puente Antiguo, New Mexico. </p><p>They had to get there somehow, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Road to Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> Title is, of course, from the Talking Heads song of the same name, which belongs on every road trip mix.

“Can you drive?”

 

“What?”

 

A slightly disheveled, obnoxiously (ok, just remarkably) pretty girl (young woman, jeez dude) pokes her head up from behind a... machine. (It’s probably got a name but it could literally be a transmogrifier for all Darcy knows.)

 

The woman squints at her in confusion, like she’s not sure how anyone can possibly be this dense.

 

“Can you drive?" snaps the woman, before visibly reining herself in. "A car -- well, a van. Uh, legally.”

 

Darcy stares at her blankly for a second. “I have a license, yeah. You did put that on the internship posting, remember?”

 

Dr. Foster (it’s gotta be Dr. Foster, right?) looks confused for a second. Absently, she mutters “I did? Right. Well --” she turns and starts to crawl back into the transmogrifier-that-probably-isn’t without finishing her sentence.

 

Darcy shifts from foot to foot, hoping she doesn’t look as awkward as she feels right now but accepting that she probably does.

 

“So uh, did you want me to drive anywhere in particular?”

 

A muffled bang and a hissed expletive are the only response for a minute, then Dr Foster emerges again.

 

“Oh. Didn’t I mention? We have to get all of this--” she waves a hand at the lab full of scary complex machinery “--to New Mexico.”

 

“Excuse me, what?”

 

“What?”

 

“Are you for serious?”  


“What?”

 

“You want me to drive a roomful of shit, sorry, uh, stuff, from Virginia to _New Mexico_.”

 

“Yes. I can’t drive 24 hours straight and I need to get there quickly so I can start work. I don’t want to lose any time before the fall semester starts and I have to waste time with undergrads again.”

 

“Um, _I’m_ an undergrad.”

 

“Oh I didn’t mean you, I meant real students. Uh. Physics students. Anyway, this is what I need. Are you ready to go?”

 

“I... Um. Ok. Just to make sure, you _are_ Jane Foster, right?”

 

“What? Yes. Who else would I be?”

 

“I just wanted to make sure I was at least in the right place before I signed up for a two thousand mile road trip with a stranger.”

 

“Right, ok, well, I am. Does that mean you can leave now?”

 

Darcy is pretty sure she could not bitchface any harder if she tried. “Seriously? Right now? Do you have supplies for the trip? Clothes packed? Is the... van? gassed up? Do you have a route mapped out? Emergency contacts? Music to keep you awake? You know, a plan?”

 

Dr Foster stares at her blankly. “Uh, I think there’s gas in the van...”

 

“...right. Okay. Why don’t you give me the keys, tell me where the van is, give me some money or something to run out for supplies, and you finish getting ready to pack all this stuff up. We can leave in...” Darcy checks her phone for the time. “Four hours? That gets us on the road by 1 and should be enough time for you to be ready.”

 

“Oh. Yeah, that should be...” Dr Foster takes an assessing look at the lab. “I should be able to finish packing this up in two, two and a half hours at most.”

 

Darcy grins. “Yeah, and you need to pack your clothes and like, notebooks and stuff too, right? You’ll need the four hours.”

 

She turns that (weirdly piercing) scientist look on Darcy. Without a word, she goes to rummage in a drawer in one of the lab’s terrifyingly messy desks and comes back holding a credit card, a notebook with dozens of papers sticking out of it, and a ring of keys.

 

She shoves them across the desktop in Darcy's general direction. “This is my departmental credit card, the keys to the van, and all my reservations for the summer. Do whatever needs to be done.”

 

“Er, awesomeface. Thanks. And the van is...?”

 

“Oh, right. It’s up in the front of the red faculty lot. You’ll see it.”

 

Dr Foster turns and goes back to her tinkering, clearly done with the conversation.

 

“Check. Ok, I’ll just... go do stuff. See you at 1, boss.”

 

So that was weird.

 

\----

 

They’re about an hour west of Willowdale, not quite into the mountains, when Darcy queues up her first playlist. So, ok, yeah, she didn’t spend the entire four hours getting ready; her stuff had already been packed up once the dorms closed, and once you’ve packed for one road trip you pretty much know how it goes. The van (ok, more of a Winnebago, but van is way shorter) is awkward to drive in town, but it’s not terrible, and luckily Costco has, like, everything, so it’s pretty much one stop shopping. Which means she basically had an extra entire hour to put together her first road trip mix.

 

It’s a surprisingly finicky undertaking to make a soundtrack that will keep you going while you’re stuck in a rickety, under-airconditioned box with what is basically a complete stranger. I mean, obviously you need stuff that’s going to be pleasing to both you and your copilot, but, ugh, picking music for people you don’t know is awful. And you have the added pressure of finding songs that will hopefully prompt sing-alongs, because, hello, road trip.

 

Anyway. They have like _thirty hours_ of driving to fill. Darcy figures at least some of that will be talking (oh please let there be talking because she is seriously going to go crazy if Dr Foster won’t talk to her), and some of it will probably be quiet time, because sometimes you need a break, but she’s still got to fill half of that, at minimum.

 

The first hour is crucial, because it has to say “this is fun music, but I’m also serious about what we’re doing here, and I thought about what you might like, but also I’m expressing myself through my music.” Jeez, so much pressure!

 

Dr Foster looks wicked young for a full PhD, but she’s also got one of those elegant faces that look the same age for like ever, so Darcy’s just going to assume she’s about five to ten years younger than her boss. This is important because that first song has to be familiar, and Dr Foster probably hasn’t left the lab in like... years. So, ok, quick math says whatever was popular when Darcy was in middle school ish is probably going to be stuff Jane heard in college. You pretty much can’t escape pop music in the dorms, right? So late nineties, early 00s... shit. Britney would be the obvious choice but you can’t lead with Britney and look serious.

 

Darcy had been scrolling despairingly through her ipod when the solution presented itself. Everyone knows Destiny’s Child. Fricking _everyone_.

 

Hours later, they’re blowing down I-40 at about 75 and Darcy pushes play. Independent Women Part 1 begins to bop through the van’s slightly crackly speakers and Jane startles. She looks at Darcy like a deer in headlights for a second like it never occurred to her to have music for this process.

 

“Wh... is this Destiny’s Child?”

 

Darcy grins. “Yep!”

 

“Huh.”

 

“Well, you know, it helps keep me awake while I drive, although I think I read somewhere that you’re not supposed to listen to music that’s like super loud while you drive because it reduces your reaction times. Actually, I think chewing gum actually has been shown to keep you more awake and focused on a given task, so I got one of those super bulk variety packs of sugar free gum, too, so that should help. But yeah. I like music. So we have music. Is this song ok?”

 

Dr Foster smiles this weird sort of half-smile at her like she’s not sure she remembers how but she’s so overcome by Darcy’s weird charm that she can’t help it.

 

“Uh, yeah, actually. One of my best friends in undergrad was kind of obsessed with Charlie’s Angels so I heard this a lot. It’s... not bad.”

 

“Sweet. Ok. Well, I’ve got like... a lot of music put together for the trip. I mean, it’s all stuff I like, but if you hate something, please just tell me to skip it. We’re going to be basically living in each other’s pockets for the next couple of months so I’d really like to not piss you off, ok?”

 

“Ok, yeah.”

 

“And also, I keep calling you Dr Foster in my head but that feels kind of weird. Can I give you a nickname? I think boss lady sounds pretty rad, or like, science mistress? No, that’s kind of bad touch-y. Or … actually how about I shut up and let you answer because I’m weirding myself out. Sometimes I babble. Sorry.”

 

Dr Foster has the science look again, like Darcy is some weird specimen she can’t quite figure out.

 

“Dr Foster is fine, but you’re right. We’re going to need to at least try to get along. You can call me Jane, if you want, but please don’t call me science mistress. You’re right, it’s very, uh, inappropriate.”

 

“Awesome. Thanks. So, hi Jane, I’m Darcy. Nice to meet you.” Darcy takes one hand off the wheel to wave, though she keeps her eyes on the road.

 

“Nice to meet you Darcy. Thanks for... all this.” Jane waves a hand to indicate the van, the music, the snacks, and everything else crammed into it.

 

“No problemo. Road trips have tradition, and I’m here to be your assistant, so this is me assisting.”

 

Jane makes a considering sort of face at this and they lapse into companionable silence as Destiny’s Child fades out and the Go-Gos start blaring from the speakers.

 

\----

They’re somewhere in central Tennessee when Darcy absolutely, positively cannot hold it anymore.

 

“Dude, we have to take a pit stop. And actually...” she checks the gas gauge “we probably ought to fill up. Lunch?”

 

“That’s fine. Anywhere that takes credit, so I can put it on my expenses.”

 

“Sweet, ok, let’s find somewhere good.”

 

“We can just go to Panera or something and get a salad, you know.”

 

Darcy gapes at her.

 

“Um, no? You can’t do something boring like that on a trip of this magnitude! It’s either massively shitty fast food, because yum, or, like, awesome local places. Oh. Unless you’re like vegan or something? Although we could probably find something...”

 

“ _Darcy_.” Jane’s interruption is gentle but firm. “You’re babbling again. I’m not a vegan or a vegetarian. I just like salads I don’t have to prepare. If you can _quickly_ find us somewhere that meets your standards, we can go wherever.”

 

They pull into a gas station with an impressively kitschy mini-mart attached. Darcy hops out of the van to set up the pump and then disappears inside.

 

Ten minutes later she climbs into the van, triumphantly clutching a map and an orange flyer for something.

 

“Ok so apparently there’s this amazing little diner place about six blocks over that’s been locally run forever; they have salads and handmade sandwiches and pie and stuff. The lady at the gas station was super helpful.”

 

Jane gives her that half smile again and they drive off.

 

It turns out the diner is _amazeballs_ and Darcy has the foresight to order a few extra sandwiches and some sides and, ok, also an entire pie, to go, and packs it all in the cooler she’d bought at Costco and stowed behind her seat.

 

They’re both kind of full, so to counteract the sleepies, Darcy decides it’s time for her second playlist maneuver.

 

She queues up the playlist and the opening notes of “She Blinded Me with Science” ping through the speakers. Jane stares at her wide-eyed for a second and then bursts into incredulous laughter.

 

“Oh my god, Darcy, are you serious?”

 

Darcy grins. “Are you kidding? This song is awesome! And, incidentally, ushers in an entire hour of delicious science-themed musical stylings!”

 

Jane is unconsciously bopping along to Thomas Dolby, her laugh having morphed into a goofy grin. When the song cues them, they both shout “SCIENCE!” at the top of their lungs.

 

Yeah, Darcy is kind of brilliant.

 

\----

 

They hit Memphis around 1 am and realize they’re both completely fried. They’ve been running on pop music and pie for hours, and as much as Jane really wants to just keep going, they agree that it’s safer to sleep for a bit rather than risk the van and the equipment. Darcy finds a 24-hour Wal-Mart that allows overnight parking (because hey, they’re in an RV, it’s not like they need to get a motel room) and they crash.

 

Jane makes three trips around the van to make sure that all the windows are secured and all the equipment is securely fastened down or taken inside before she finally passes out in the passenger seat. Darcy thinks she looks freakishly uncomfortable but she’s snoring a little bit so apparently it’s not too bad. Darcy, since she suspects she’ll again be doing the majority of the driving, makes a nest out of the extra blankets she bought and a duffel of clothes and spends a surprisingly restful night on the floor.

 

In the morning, Jane is _bouncy_. Like, you’d think a person who spends all their time studying the stars or whatever would be a night person, but apparently not. Or maybe she’s just excited by the idea of being just hours away from better science. Whatever. Academics are weird.

 

Jane takes the first driving shift, and Darcy starts making phone calls to confirm their reservations for everything. When she checks on the building they’ve rented to be their makeshift lab, she gets a little bit of flak from the real estate agent that the physics department secretary had been working with.

 

“Ma’am, I understand that I was not listed as a contact on the contract that you have in hand, but I am Dr Foster’s assistant, and as she is currently indisposed, I’ve been tasked with confirming this reservation. I have copies of every form that Culver University issued in conjunction with this arrangement, as well as the contract that your agency provided. I can confirm any identity you would like me to, but if you refuse to speak with me because I wasn’t already listed on your form, we will have a serious problem.”

 

There’s a pause while the person on the other end makes a more or less appropriately chastened noise and provides the information Darcy was fishing for.

 

“Thank you!” Darcy’s voice is treacle-sweet. “Mmmhmm, and could you confirm the dates one last time for me? … Wonderful. We’ll be parking our vehicle in the lot, and we’ll pick up the keys to the building at 8 a.m. tomorrow morning. Here is a number where you can reach me directly, or you can call the number listed for Dr Foster and I’ll be available”

 

She rattles off her cell phone number, thanks the woman again, and hangs up.

 

Jane shoots her a glance.

 

“You are weirdly good at that.”

 

“Yeah, I worked for a law firm for a year that, among other things, did collections. I developed some useful if not totally _nice_ skills.”

 

Jane makes a considering sort of hmmm, aaaand there’s the science look again. Except this time it says “Unexpected variable. More data analysis needed.”

 

Darcy quirks a half-smile as she checks the rest of the reservations on her list.

 

“So I have to ask:  if you’ve got these skills, and you’re not a science major, why on earth did you apply for this internship?”

 

“Part of my lifelong dream to drive a science Winnebago across the country?”

 

Jane frowns. “If you don’t want to answer, that’s fine. but you don’t have to be snide about it.”

 

“No, jeez, that’s -- “ Darcy sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to graduate as close to on time as possible and my requirements are all over the place. The policy institute internship I had lined up for the summer fell through when some congressman pulled strings for his kid, which means no income, no credits, and no housing. This was one of the few internships still left open in May and, well, I really liked going to the planetarium as a kid, so I figured... I don’t know what I figured. But I _do_ appreciate that you took a chance on me, and I’m sorry in advance for the many, many times I’m going to annoy you.”

 

Darcy falls into slightly sheepish silence.

 

Jane hmms again for a second. She pauses, shoots a sideways glance at Darcy, and then seems to make a decision.

 

“This isn’t an easy job, Darcy. I’m demanding, and impatient, and sometimes I get so wrapped up in what I’m doing... well. The rest of the department thinks I’m a crackpot. The only reason I’m still at Culver and not exiled to some low-rent community college is because Erik Selvig vouches for me, and because people respected my dad. This job is going to involve a lot of weird hours, and a lot of mind-numbing data entry, and me shouting at you when the instruments break, which they will, because they always do. It’s probably going to suck for you.”

 

Darcy is so stunned by this monologue that she just puts her hands in her lap and stares.

 

Jane frowns, and flushes, and frowns harder.

 

“What? I just... I thought you deserved as much honesty as you gave me.”

 

“No! Oh my god, no, that was... that was amazing! I mean, you’re all … ok, not as together as I thought you were, apparently, but you’re still clearly a fricking genius and I’m …. well. Less said on that, the better. So, whatever. We’re both a little rough around the edges, so we’ll just

… figure it out.”

 

She pauses.

 

“Um. So, I recognize that this is maybe pushing it, but would now be a good time to put on my girl-power up-with-friendship mix?”

 

Jane looks genuinely taken aback before she cracks up. “Definitely. Just promise me there’s no Spice Girls.”

 

\----

 

Two hundred miles outside Puente Antiguo, the van overheats and stalls out. In its defense, it is like, a million degrees in the horrific, baking sun. (Ok, Darcy’s phone says it’s like 90, tops, but it feels like a furnace.) Jane’s (“Oh my god, seriously, boss lady, are you honestly still using a flip phone?”) phone has no signal, but Darcy’s StarkPhone has signal basically everywhere. So she pulls up some forums and discovers that every once in a while this particular model of camper gets a little finicky when it’s this dry and hot.

 

“Yeah, so apparently this just happens? I’ll pop the hood and we can let it cool off for like... half an hour, and then we should be ok.”

 

Jane looks kind of fretful. “As long as it’s not too much longer. I’d really like to get all the equipment settled and check it for damage.”

 

“We should be there in like... two, two and a half hours, and then everything should be ok. And if not, it turns out that the department actually ponied up for AAA, so if we have to, we can call for a tow.”

 

The hood is hot as hell, but Darcy wraps a spare t-shirt around her hand as she pops it, and it’s fine. The ground is baked and dry and hot, so they drag a spare blanket out and camp in the shade of the van.

 

Suddenly things are awkward.

 

“So this is awkward again.” (What? In the words of Cordelia Chase, tact is just not saying true stuff. Darcy’s totally justified here.)

 

Jane is sporting Science Frown.(Yeah. It’s been upgraded to its own entity.) “I… yeah, I guess. We’re close, and this kind of setback has ruined expeditions before.”

 

Darcy scoffs. “Come on, boss lady. This isn’t like, the south pole or something. You’ll be able to get to your stuff on time and at worst you’ll miss a single night of observations or sciencing or whatever.”

 

Jane huffs. “The less data I have—“

 

“Yeah but, you will still have data, right? And you have previous data, right, or else you wouldn’t have anything to do the rest of the year.”

 

“Well, of course.”

 

“So if for some crazy reason something else is wrong, we’ll get a tow, you’ll spend the next few hours looking over what you’ve already got and then you’ll hit the ground running.”

 

Jane looks sour. “I did already do my prep work for this summer, you know.”

 

“And have you never found stuff you missed before? I mean, I know I find shit _all the time_ in my research notes when I bother to look at them.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“Come on. If it’s really bad you can take a nap. Wasn’t there a study a couple of years ago that says when you’re asleep your brain keeps working on whatever you’re thinking about and sometimes you make breakthroughs when you just kind of leave it alone? Sleep is super important for refreshing your neural pathways or whatever.”

 

Jane frowns. (This frown is just kind of grumpy.) “That sounded like science. I thought you didn’t do science.”

 

“Well, A. it was in Discover magazine, which barely counts, since it’s science for us poor regular folks, and B. I like anything that helps me to argue that, for my continued intellectual development, I should sleep off my hangovers and not be forced to go grocery shopping with my mother on the weekends when I’m home.”

 

“That’s fair.” Jane stares out into the desert for a minute, and then brings her knees to her chest, folds her arms over them, and puts her head down.

 

Darcy watches her carefully to make sure she’s not, like, crying over delayed access to extra science, but when it looks like Jane’s genuinely just resting, Darcy pulls her phone back out and begins to calculate how early she would have to call roadside assistance to get a truck there in time to get them to the research site within three hours.

 

“Darcy?” Jane says softly.

 

She glances over, and Jane has rolled her head slightly to the side and is giving her a strange kind of look.

 

“What’s up, boss lady?”  


Jane smiles, looking a little perplexed and a lot grateful. “Thank you for being here. Thank you for being more than a suck-up undergrad or an idiot. I think this is actually going to work.”

 

Darcy grins sort of lopsidedly, not sure how to respond. Finally, she reaches her fist out while schooling her face into something vaguely approaching _serious business._

 

“Hit me, bro,” she says, lacing her tone with fake gravity.

 

Jane grins, and reaches her hand out to give a surprisingly masterful fist bump, and makes the _cheesiest_ explosion noise as she withdraws, splaying her fingers out.

 

After a beat, they both dissolve into laughter.

 

Yeah. This is going to work.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Everything in this fic is my fault, because the marvelous wishfulwandrer sent me edits and then I promptly ignored them. WHATEVER WHATEVER I DO WHAT I WANT. 
> 
> I have unreasonably detailed headcanons about Darcy and Jane's academic backstory. If anyone is interested in that sort of thing, and MCU fandom in general, you should come find me on tumblr at ehonauta.


End file.
